


wait & see

by angellwings



Series: when the smoke clears [1]
Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epiphanies, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, One Shot, Past Relationship(s), Personal Growth, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:02:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27692519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angellwings/pseuds/angellwings
Summary: She can’t avoid Molly’s forever.Just like she couldn’t avoid Matt forever. She’d recently stopped doing that at work, so now it’s time to stop avoiding him in social settings too. Right?By asking her question that first night, she assumed she would avoid the wholeit’s complicatedstatus. But no—somehow she found herself there anyway.
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Series: when the smoke clears [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027452
Comments: 45
Kudos: 172





	wait & see

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** So, this is NOT a predict it fic. I do NOT think this will happen on the show. You’ll see why as you read. This was just a little turnabout scenario that I thought of and wanted to play with while Brettsey is in this strange post 9x02 place. 
> 
> Thank you to **katertots** for editing this for me! She’s amazing and red penned this for me. She also edited some of the wording and smoothed out some of my clumsy edges. If you haven’t read her stories PLEASE DO. She’s amazing!
> 
> Anyway, happy reading! Hopefully you like this.
> 
> xoxo

_******_

_“I recommend biting off more than you can chew to anyone,_

_I certainly do._

_I recommend sticking your foot in your mouth at any time,_

_Feel free._

_Throw it down (the caution blocks you from the wind),_

_Hold it up (to the rays),_

_You wait and see when the smoke clears.”_

_-“You Learn” by Alanis Morissette_

******

She can’t avoid Molly’s forever.

Just like she couldn’t avoid Matt forever. She’d recently stopped doing that at work, so now it’s time to stop avoiding him in social settings too. Right? 

By asking her question that first night, she assumed she would avoid the whole _it’s complicated_ status. But no—somehow she found herself there anyway. 

She and Matt are talking it through. It’s strange to fall in love with someone before you’ve had a chance to really get to know them. Sure, she knows Matt for who he is now. _Post-Gabby_. But he had a whole lifetime of experiences _before_ Gabby that she never knew about. Part of which, he says, plays into what he’s going through now.

He’s not asking her to wait for him, _exactly_ , but he is asking for her to give him a shot. They’ve been honest and open with each other so far, he said, why stop now?

For the life of her she couldn’t refute his point and, to be quite frank, she didn’t want to.

She set the ground rules and she knew Matt would follow them. Absolutely no kissing was really the most important one. As much as she wants him, she knows exactly where it will lead. She’s not letting herself invest that much into him yet. If she does that then there’s no chance of saving her heart.

Matt needs to be ready to move on and he needs to _know it_ before she takes any sort of step forward with him. A relationship with an unavailable man will never work. She learned that lesson with Antonio. 

Another lesson learned from Antonio Dawson? Casual is _not_ for her. Not that Matt wants casual, at least as far as she can tell. But with Gabby looming over them, she’s afraid that’s what she and Casey might accidentally become. That would break her too. Possibly _worse_ than being dumped for an ex-wife.

So, yeah, no kissing. Not until she feels secure about what Matt’s feelings are and how they relate to her.

She steps through the door and sheds her coat. Her eyes are immediately pulled to Matt and where he sits next to Severide at the bar. She can tell the moment he notices her. He practically leaps up from his bar stool. He gives her a tiny shy smile and waves, motioning to the stool he just vacated.

She can’t help but grin and chuckle at his awkwardness. Even if they’re in a strange limbo, he’s _adorable_.

She approaches, hangs her coat on the hook under the bar, and smiles first at Matt then at Severide.

“Hey, guys,” she says hesitantly. She turns to look at Matt and finds his eyes to be unbearably earnest. She looks away as quickly as she can without seeming rude. “You didn’t have to save me a seat.”

Especially because there’s practically no one here tonight.

“Uh, well, you know, it’s cold outside so I was just, um, keeping it warm for you.”

Severide nearly chokes on his beer and shakes his head in secondhand embarrassment. 

A light giggle escapes her before she can stop it and her eyes meet his again, finding his face frozen in a self-deprecating wince.

“That’s very sweet of you, Matt,” she says, smiling in amusement. “Thanks.”

He blushes and sits down on the empty stool next to hers. “Sure. Anytime.”

“Well, as entertaining as this is,” Severide says, clearing his throat to keep from chuckling. “I’m gonna go see how Stella’s doing tending bar out on the patio. Nice to see you out again, Brett.”

Now it’s her turn to blush. Did he have to remind her about how she shut herself up in her apartment for a week during the worst of her heartbreak over Matt?

“Um, yeah, thanks,” she replies, ducking her head and pushing her hair behind her ears.

Matt gives her an encouraging smile, somehow communicating how deeply he understands, and nods toward Herrmann. “So, what are you having? The rosé?”

She grins playfully. “No, I’ll mix it up tonight. Light beer for me, thanks.”

Casey’s just about to flag down Herrmann when the door opens and a jovial surprised cry sounds through the place.

“Well, if it isn’t Antonio Dawson! Long time, no see! What brings you into town?”

Every muscle in her body goes rigid and she doesn’t _dare_ turn around. Matt’s hand falls to the bar top and balls up into a tight fist. His skin pulls so tight that she’s afraid he might hurt himself.

“Hey, Herrmann,” Antonio says brightly. “Ava’s visiting a few colleges and I’m here chaperoning on and off for the next week.”

“Oh, colleges, yikes,” Herrmann replies with a wince.

“Tell me about it.”

“So, what can I get you?”

Neither she nor Matt have twitched one muscle or said one word. Sylvie’s not sure she _wants_ Antonio to notice her. Before he left town, they did a great job ignoring each other. Maybe they can pull off the same feat tonight.

“Actually, I was wondering if you’d seen Sylvie around? I was hoping to catch up with her while I’m in town.”

Sylvie closes her eyes tightly and bites her bottom lip so hard she thinks she might have drawn blood. This _cannot_ be happening. Is the universe kidding with this shit? She and Matt are making a tentative attempt to start over and _this_ is when Antonio Dawson reappears?

“It’s your lucky night, I think,” Herrmann says, turning to Sylvie and tossing her a wink. “First night she’s been all week. Isn’t it, kid?”

Oh, kill her. Kill her _now_.

She takes a deep breath and turns on her stool, pasting on a smile.

“Hey,” she replies with an awkward wave.

A half smirk slides across Antonio’s face and he gives her a long, head-to-toe once-over. Despite knowing better, that look still manages to thrill her, sending a tingling sensation through her body. _What the hell?_ They are long over. She hasn’t even thought about him in a year. 

“Hey,” he echoes.

 _He looks good_ , the traitorous part of her brain supplies. Really good. As in, living-his-best-life-and-taking-excellent-care-of-himself good. 

“Can we talk?” Antonio asks when a strange tense pause stretches out between them.

Her eyes widen and she presses her lips together in a panicked rubbery expression. God, she’s an idiot. Her gaze slides to Matt and then back to Antonio before yoyo-ing back to Matt again.

Matt looks utterly blank. She only knows he’s uncomfortable because his fingers flex and fidget as he keeps them balled up on the bar.

Oh, holy hell, how is this her life?

She nods and makes some sort of strange affirmative noise in response to Antonio’s question. “Sure. Yeah, okay.”

Antonio starts to lead her back outside, but before they reach the door, Matt calls out to them. She thinks maybe he’s going to tell her not to go. To stay inside with him. She won’t lie, she _is_ curious about what Antonio has to say that he can’t say in the bar. She turns, feeling half-hopeful Matt will say that and half-disappointed when he doesn’t. Instead of looking jealous or upset, Matt looks perfectly stoic. 

He clears his throat and holds out her coat. 

“You probably shouldn’t go out there without this,” Matt advises. He nods stiltedly at Antonio in greeting. “Antonio.”

“Casey,” Antonio replies easily. “Good to see you, man.”

“Yeah, you too.”

She takes her coat from him and then he turns around and _leaves_. No further reaction or acknowledgement. He just... _leaves_. What does that mean?

He is always so ridiculously hard to read. It drives her insane. He’s consistently honest with her, but he’s rarely forthright. Just once she’d like him to be direct. Would that be so difficult?

Apparently so.

She slips her coat over her shoulders, with a little (completely unnecessary) help from Antonio, and then follows him outside.

“You look _good_ ,” Antonio says, grinning flirtatiously. “And I don’t just mean good. I mean happy.”

She laughs lightly and nods. “I am. You look good too. _Too good_ , maybe.”

“Well, that bodes well for what I came here to talk about then,” he says, stepping closer to her and meeting her eyes with an affectionate smile.

“I’ll be honest,” Sylvie says, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m very curious. We haven’t spoken in a _long_ time.”

She feels as if he might be standing a little too close, but she can’t bring herself to move. There’s always been a weird pull between her and Antonio. It’s the reason they even tried a relationship to begin with. The attraction was too strong to ignore. Whatever is between them now is still _strong_ but it doesn’t feel quite the same. It’s not less -- just _different_.

He nods and blows out a tired breath. “Yeah, I didn’t know if that was a good idea considering I’m in Puerto Rico and you’re here. And even before I left you and I were…”

“Awkward?” she supplies with a sympathetic grin.

“Bingo,” he agrees.

“So, what brought you out looking for me now?” she asks.

“I had a job interview yesterday,” he tells her, shoving his hands in his pockets. He seems nervous but she can’t be sure. “Private security. Here in Chicago. The money’s too good to turn down since I’ll be needing to pay tuition for both Ava and Diego soon so I’m moving back.”

“Oh,” she says, giving him a friendly smile. “That’s great! Your parents are still here, right? And the kids are with Laura? You’ll be closer to all of that. That’s amazing! Congratulations.”

“Thank you. Yeah, I’ll be closer to Laura and the kids and my parents. That’s all true,” he says, bobbing his head as he speaks. “But, um, that also means I’ll be closer to _you_.”

Okay, _what_?

“Well, yes,” she says, managing to grin through her confusion. “I do live in Chicago. Have for several years.”

He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. It’s longer than it used to be. She misses his shorter hair. Ugh, why does she care about his _hair_? Get it together, brain!

“Right, right,” he says with a nervous gulp. “But I’ve been thinking, you and I have tried twice before but the first time I didn’t do right by you. I never...I never seriously gave us a shot. That’s my fault. I had a lot of damage to work through and I didn’t take the time to do that so you got caught up in it. And the second time—well the second time was tainted by the first time, wasn’t it?”

His eyes focus on hers and they seem all-knowing. As if he’s finally put together why she wanted the second round to stay casual. She couldn’t risk being hurt again, so keeping feelings out of it was the only way she could think to do that. Only that didn’t work. She caught feelings anyway. God, she was so naive. As she thinks back through their history she’s still unclear about his point. Why bring all of this up?

She feels anxiety clawing its way up her throat, causing her voice to shake as she speaks. “I’m sorry, but why are we standing out in the cold rehashing our relationship? I’m not sure I understand.”

“Because...I’ve been thinking, you know, third time’s a charm, right? Isn’t that what they say?”

Third time? Oh god. Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open. She’s certain she looks like a fish, but... _what the hell_? 

“Where is this coming from, Antonio? We haven’t seen each other in _years_ and you just show up here out of the blue to—to what? Ask me out on a date?”

She’s actually a little pissed off right now. That’s not what she expected when she first heard Herrmann greet Antonio. But, seriously, _what the hell?_ Did he think he could show up and she’d fall down at his feet as if she’s been hanging around Chicago moping until he came back?

“Not a date,” he clarifies. “Well, okay, starting with a date, but I was hoping for _more_ than a date. And I can tell you’re angry. I get it. You have every right to tell me to go screw myself. I come back and disrupt your life—I know it’s not a good look. But...every now and then I think back and I have _regrets_. I remember how great we were and I wish I could go back and get it right. And now— _right now_ —this is my shot. So, I’m taking it.”

Alright, she’ll admit, that was a pretty damn good speech. It stirs something in her. A memory. A memory of her standing in her kitchen holding a negative pregnancy test yet still imaging some fairy tale life where she and Antonio got it right. That dream burst in front of her like an overinflated balloon back when it originally occurred to her, but for a long time... _she wondered_.

So, she understands what he’s saying about regrets. She’s felt that too. Though, not for a long time. But the lingering memory makes her doubt. Is it possible that something she thought was long over actually _isn’t_?

She quickly reminds herself that doubts don’t mean feelings and memories can be deceiving.

“What makes you think it would be any different a third time around?” she asks him with a narrowed gaze.

“Because _I’m_ different,” he says confidently. “My life is more settled. I’ve worked through all the shit with Laura. _I’m ready_ , Sylvie. I’m ready to put you first. If it’s what you want, that is.”

Oh god, his eyes look so _genuine_ and _truthful_. A few years ago, she would have been ecstatic about this. She would have immediately said yes and let him sweep her off her feet. But _now_? He says this to her _now_?

“I—can I think about it?” She asks. Confusions fills her up like air being pumped into a tire. It inflates feelings she hasn’t thought about in years and makes them _seem_ bigger than they are. Or at least she _thinks_ it does. 

She was not expecting this at all and all his hopeful talk is uncovering scars she thought were long healed. Her brain feels like it’s about to short-circuit and explode.

“Of course,” he assures her. “I’m in town all week and after that I won’t be back in Chicago for another month. You’ve got plenty of time to consider it but I just...I needed to put it out there.”

 _He needed_ to put it out there. Did he stop to consider what _she needed_? Because it sure as hell wasn’t _this_. 

He steps further into her space and kisses the top of her head, grinning softly. “My number’s still the same. If you decide you’re up for it, I’d like to take you to dinner this week. Let me know.”

She nods and steps back from him, needing physical and emotional distance from everything he’s stirred up with his sudden reappearance. God, couldn’t she ever catch a break? Or even simply deal with _one_ thing at a time? This is getting ridiculous.

Antonio leaves and she stands outside for several more minutes. Stunned into inaction. She can’t decide whether she’s coming or going but then she remembers her purse is inside and _Matt_ is waiting for her with a beer—wanting to hang out.

She was barely in the mood for it before and she’s definitely not in the mood for it now. She forces herself to take several deep breaths and gather her composure as best she can before walking back inside. 

She sets her sights on the bar—her purse on the barstool, the beer sitting on a napkin in front of it—and puts on blinders for anything or anyone else. She grabs the brown bottle and gulps down a large sip before slamming it down on the bar.

“Everything okay?” Matt asks, brow furrowed at her in concern.

She nods, maybe too enthusiastically, grabs her purse and pulls the cross body strap across her torso. “I’m...I’m fine. I think. I’m sorry, Matt, I can’t—I can’t do this tonight. It’s too much.”

“Too much with me or with...Antonio?” he asks with genuine worry filling his eyes.

But that’s all she finds there. Worry. He doesn’t look upset or, god forbid, jealous. Just...worried. Like a _friend_ would be. It shouldn’t frustrate her, but it does.

“Both of you,” she says, blowing out a shaky breath. “It’s too much with both of you. Him because he—never mind. And you because you…” She lets her sentence trail away, thinking better of voicing the way his lack of a response irritates her. “You know what, forget it. This was probably a bad idea from the jump.”

And then she spins on her heeled boots and speed walks away.

No. Nope. It’s too much.

She can’t do it.

Not with Antonio. Not with Matt.

She just... _can’t_.

She pushes the door open with more force than she intends and comes skidding to a stop on the sidewalk. The cold night air that had felt suffocating with Antonio suddenly feels completely different when it means she’s escaping Matt’s solemn blue eyes.

She quits. She just fucking quits.

She stomps down the sidewalk toward her car, startled when Matt suddenly pops up at her elbow.

“What do you mean this was a bad idea from the jump?” he asks, eyes wide and nearly frantic. “I don’t—Sylvie, what does that _mean_?”

What does that _mean_? What does it sound like it means? She’s so tired of _talking_. Can’t things ever be simple? Why can’t the person she wants just _want her_ at the same time, place, and moment she wants them? Or if they do want her then why are they never on the same page, she is? Why did Harrison feel the need to belittle her? Why did Kyle think she’d want to quit her job? Why did Antonio only think of her as an _afterthought_? And why doesn’t Matt seem to care that her ex showed up and wanted to get her _alone_? If it had been Gabby that showed up tonight, _she_ would have cared.

“Were you bothered at all just now?” she asks, stopping in her tracks and causing him to get a few steps ahead before he rebounds back to her. “Did Antonio showing up here get to you _at all_?”

She sees panic briefly flash across his eyes and he gives her a wary look, as if her question might be a trap. She nearly laughs. She would, actually, if she wasn’t so fed up with her life at the moment.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” Matt admits sincerely.

This time she does laugh, dry and bitter. “Of course you don’t.”

“I don’t know how to answer because I don’t have a right to be jealous,” he explains. “If I say I am, then you’ll get pissed at me, but clearly not getting jealous isn’t working for you either. So, I don’t know how to answer your question.”

“It’s a simple question. Are you jealous?” she repeats. “Yes or no. It’s not even open-ended. Pick one.”

“Yes! Okay?” he says, blowing out a frustrated breath. “Yes, I’m jealous. It’s all I’ve been from the minute I heard Herrmann say his name. But I don’t want to be _that guy_ who treats you like crap for things you have no control over or because I got a little taste of my own medicine. That’s not who I am and most importantly it’s not fair to you! So, I shoved it down and played nice. What would you rather I have done?”

She gnaws on her bottom lip and looks down at her feet, feeling guilty for having doubted him. Of course he tamped down his reaction for her. He’s Matt Casey. The best, most decent man _in the world_. What did she expect?

“Sylvie?” he asks, dipping his head to catch her gaze again. “I am genuinely asking you. What would you rather I have done?” The crease between his brow deepens and he looks completely lost. She swallows and fights the urge to look away. She put that look in his eyes so she needs to face up to it. “I am willing to put in the work. Hell, I’ll do it happily— _for you_. But you have to give me something to work with. I mean, what do you _want_?”

That last question is said so beseechingly that it almost makes her want to cry. He wholeheartedly wants to know what she wants. He’s not asking to be flip or rude. It’s an actual question about her needs. Not his. _Hers_.

But the problem is, between Antonio’s confusing reappearance and Matt’s careworn face, _she can’t think_.

“I don’t know!” she shouts, angrily. Not _at_ Matt. Never at Matt. 

_At herself_.

She’s not sure what response she expected from Matt—if any—but it wasn’t for him to take a beat of silence and then say, “Let me drive you home.”

Her brow furrows at him. “What? No, Matt, you don’t need to do that. I’m upset but I can drive.”

“Alright, fine,” he says, his tone sounding resigned but a little clipped. “Then at least don’t drive home _right_ this second. Calm down a little first. Do you...do you need to talk about it? I’m willing to listen if that would help.”

“In the middle of the street?” she asks. Her car is still a block away so that would be a ways to walk with her feeling... _like this_.

“My truck is just across the street,” he says pointing to where his truck is parallel parked along the curb. “It’s not perfect, but it’s private.”

She nods hesitantly but follows Casey to his truck. She feels like she might possibly explode if she doesn’t get at least some of his emotional pressure off of her chest soon. Though, the choice to talk Antonio through with Matt might be questionable.

He unlocks his truck and they both climb inside. He opens the middle console and reaches inside, pulling out an unopened bottle of water. “Might help,” he says as he offers it to her. “Even if you’re not thirsty.”

She sighs but concedes his point. Sipping slowly on a bottle of water is a trick she often uses on patients panicking at accident scenes. The irony of it being used on her now is not lost on her. She opens the bottle and takes a few sips, people watching out of his truck windows while she does.

When her heart rate slows and her pulse is no longer hammering in her wrist, she puts the cap on the bottle and turns in her seat to face Matt. “At some point, life has to stop throwing curveballs at me, right? I mean it can’t _always_ be like this.”

“I would hope so. You deserve a break,” he replies. His Adam’s Apple bobs and his eyes meet hers with a guilty expression. “I hate that I’m one of those curveballs now, just so you know. The last thing I want is to pile on.”

The honesty of his words rings like a bell through the truck, clear and loud. She swallows a lump in her throat, willing herself not to cry. She’s cried enough for one lifetime, let alone this _year_. 

“I know,” she replies. “I know you never intended to hurt me.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I did, though, does it?”

She shakes her head, blinking tears away. “No, it doesn’t.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat and his hands wrap around the steering wheel in a white knuckle grip. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Matt.”

“But I am anyway,” he mutters, ruefully. “But you’re not here to talk about us. We can do that some other time. What happened with Antonio?”

She huffs, becoming agitated as she replays the scene in her mind. Her eyes narrow on Matt’s suspiciously. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

He nods, but she notices his grip tighten around the wheel. “Positive. Lay it on me.”

In spite of her irritation and her warring emotions, a chuckle escapes her at the determined grit in his tone. “If you say so.”

“I say so.”

It would be a lot easier to keep her walls up around him if he wasn’t always so _good_. Not that she’d change that about him if given the choice.

“He’s moving back to Chicago,” she announces. Deciding to blow up the ice instead of gently breaking it. “And he wants to try again when he does.”

Matt inhales sharply, holds his breath for a moment, and then slowly releases it out of his nose. His face pinches and his muscles stiffen but the word that leaves his mouth is an overly breezy, “Okay.”

Suddenly, this entire scenario strikes her as unbelievably funny. She risks a look at Matt’s strained face while he puts every bit of effort he has into looking neutral (he’s failing miserably) and bursts out laughing. She doubles over in her seat, forehead resting on the truck dash, and holds her stomach as her chortling grows louder and longer. 

“What’s happening now?” Matt asks her, looking amused but also slightly terrified.

Which only makes her laugh harder.

“I’m sorry,” she says, gasping for air between giggles. “I know you probably think I’m insane. I’m all over the place tonight but, _god_ , laughing feels so much better than crying.”

He laughs lightly and points a soft grin at her as if he can’t help himself and shakes his head. “I don’t think you’re insane. You’ve just got a lot going on.”

She catches her breath but lets out one last wry chuckle. “It would be nice to have a normal amount of things going on for once.”

“Yeah,” Matt agrees. “I know how that goes.”

“Antonio really showed up at the bar tonight, right?” she asks, blinking owlishly at Matt. “I didn’t imagine that?”

“As much as I wish you had, no you didn’t imagine it,” he replies with a soft scoff.

“I mean, excuse my language for a second but, _what the fuck_?”

Matt’s eyes go wide and he snorts out a surprised laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you _truly_ curse before, Sylvie Brett.”

“And I don’t think I’ve ever heard you snort-laugh before, Matt Casey,” she fires back with a mirthful grin.

“Well, I can’t trust just _anyone_ with the snort-laugh, now can I?”

“Oh, I see but you trust me with it?” she asks, with a muted chuckle.

How is she smiling and laughing right now? With _Matt Casey_ of all people? He’s the same guy who very nearly broke her heart just one week ago yet here they are making fun of her ridiculous life. Together.

And, somehow, it feels so incredibly right.

Go figure.

His gaze sobers, turning deeply heartfelt, as a delicate smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Of course. I trust you completely, Sylvie. Always will.”

It takes all of her self control to rein in the swooning sigh lingering in the back of her throat. He has _got_ to stop making her want to kiss him. She wants to echo his words back to him. She really does, but she _can’t_. Because right now she doesn’t trust him completely. If she did then she would have already handed over heart to him. The very existence of her struggle implies a lack of trust.

The mood shifts when she doesn’t reply. They both seem to remember what brought them to Molly’s tonight — a fragile attempt to reconnect. An attempt that was interrupted by her ex.

“So, Antonio wants to try again, huh?” Matt asks, a disapproving edge to his voice. “For a _third_ time?”

She nods and sighs tiredly. “Yep.”

“And did he say why things might be different _this_ time?”

She lightly bites the inside of her lip to keep from grinning at the judgment in Matt’s voice. She can tell he’s restraining himself. He looks more irritated than he sounds. The jealousy isn’t obvious but, now that she _knows_ it’s there, she can hear it. Knowing it exists makes her feel _something_ , but hearing him working hard to keep a handle on it causes a silly exhilarating flip in the pit of her stomach.

 _Cut it out_ , she scolds herself.

“He said that his life is more settled now and he’s worked through his issues with Laura, and that he…” She hesitates to say this next part, somehow knowing it’ll be hard for Matt to hear. “That he’s ready to put me first.”

Though, he didn’t exactly put her first tonight, did he? Is showing up and ambushing her with his feelings really what he thinks putting her first looks like? He didn’t even stop to consider she might already be seeing someone. Resentment bubbles up inside her like it did after Antonio first told her what he wanted. He didn’t consider her at all before showing up at Molly’s tonight.

Matt’s heads bobs, he glances at her out of the corner of his eye, and tugs at the collar of his sweater. “Is that what you want — to get back together with Antonio?”

Her first instinct is to say no, but then she remembers the weird tingles and strange appreciation for how truly good he looked, the magnetic pull that was nowhere near as strong as it used to be but still there, and considers the fact that he was able to tie her up in knots in the first place.

“No,” she says, brow creasing. “At least I don’t think so?”

It’s not a question but she says it like one and Matt looks just as confused as she feels.

“You don’t _think_ so?”

Hearing him repeat her answer back to her strikes a chord. Or more precisely presses on a bruise. Instead of her own “I don’t think so” she hears Matt’s “I don’t know” from the week before. All at once, she feels mortified for herself and devastated for him. Compared to Matt’s relationship with Gabby, Antonio was a flash in the pan. And she’s closed a few more doors than Matt has since she and Antonio ended. In fact, she closed the Antonio door pretty firmly, yet still it came unlocked.

It puts Matt’s reaction to her question into a whole new perspective and gives her renewed appreciation for the growth he’s experienced since Gabby left. It doesn’t change _much_. Yes, he still hurt her. Yes, he still has to confront his issues. No, she’s not ready to jump all the way into a relationship with him yet. _But_ it does soften her heart and eases the blow to her pride.

Matt has _never_ been a person who puts his emotions on blast. He’s reserved and methodical — a bit repressed. He second guesses himself, _a lot_. She’s watched him do it, comforted him through doubts. These are all things she’s known, but never truly stopped to consider when it came to the possibility of _them_.

Matt must take her silence to mean something else because his expression is wounded and hesitant. She watches as he shoves that down. She can actually see him switch from the-guy-who-has-real-feelings-for-her to the-friend-who-has-always-been-there-for-her in the span of a few seconds. 

His voice is quiet and thoughtful yet it still reverberates around her like surround sound. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” she agrees, swallowing thickly.

“Did you ever picture a future with Antonio? A family? A life?”

She bites her bottom lip as she debates how to answer. This is previously only a thought she shared with Gabby because it felt _foolish_ even back then. “Yes, I did. Right at the end of round two. But he had already moved on.”

“Can you _still_ picture a future with him?”

Before she answers him, she sits quietly and genuinely tries. She thinks about what that life might look like. After a handful of seconds, no vision appears. _Nothing_. A “future” with Antonio just looks like a big empty void.

“No,” she says, firmly. “I can’t.” Just like that, the reasons she and Antonio didn’t work fall back into place. She _remembers_. “He keeps his life far too compartmentalized. I would never be let all the way in. I don’t want a partner who keeps me in a box, labeled and stored away — only to be used as needed. And that’s what Antonio does. Harrison did that too. With the added cruelty of doing everything he could to force me _into_ that box in the first place. To the point that I almost believed there was no way out of it. I don’t want any more boxes.” She stops and blows out a guilty breath, suddenly thinking of Kyle and Joe. “Or pedestals either. Those aren’t much better than boxes.”

She can feel Matt’s eyes on her, but he doesn’t offer any further comment. He watches her closely. It’s a bit unnerving. She realizes now, post-kisses and partial confessions, that he’s probably been doing this all along. It just slipped her notice. Now, he doesn’t bother hiding it. His observant eyes explore every curve of her face and emotion in her expression. His willingness to simply listen and give her space to _feel_ is one of the things that started to pull her to him to begin with. It continues to do so now, prying words out of her before she even realizes it.

“I don’t want Antonio,” she tells him, holding his gaze. “I’m not backsliding. Not after everything I’ve been through. No, the next guy is gonna be the one that sticks. Whoever that turns out to be. I’ll call Antonio tomorrow and let him down easy.”

He nods, looking pensive. “Okay, so we’ve established you don’t want boxes or pedestals or Antonio. Which begs the question, what is it that you _do_ want?”

She hears the unasked question, even if he tries to disguise it as something else.

The real question is, _“How can I be what you want?”_

He’d never ask it that way. Not Matt. He’d think it was pressuring her. But she knows him and she _knows_ that’s the question she’s actually answering.

“I want—” she begins, looking away from him to nervously fiddle with her watchband. God, why does this feel like she’s reading her diary aloud? It’s _Matt_. She’s talked to Matt about lots of things she’s never talked to anyone else about. Why does this feel different now?

She knows why. It’s because now she understands he feels something incredibly complicated for her. He _wants_ her, as badly as she wants him, but maybe _not_ as badly as he wants someone else. Telling him her dreams and her hopes feels like digging the hole deeper and letting herself fall a little farther. It’s a risk.

There’s also the chance that they don’t want the same things. She suspects it’s a slim chance, but she doesn’t know for sure. What if she confesses her deepest wishes and he scoffs at them? She doesn’t _think_ he would but right now she’s insecure about everything when it comes to Matt. She can’t help it.

He asked her this same question earlier. She was upset and couldn’t quite answer him then. But now she’s calmer and his words come back to her. _“But you have to give me something to work with. I mean, what do you want?”_

Something to work with. It’s a fair request.

If he wants to _prove it to her_ like he claims then he needs to know _what_ to prove, right?

Deep breath. 

Here goes nothing.

“I want a partner,” she states, exhaling through the words.”Someone who _chooses me_ as often as I choose them. Over and over again. A person who wants to build something with me. _With me_ is the important part. I don’t want it built _for me_. I want to be in the trenches with someone. Side by side. I don’t expect it to be perfect or easy. I know it’ll be hard. Life is hard enough on its own. Creating one with another person is bound to be even harder. But as long as that person stays, through the good and bad days and isn’t afraid to fight for what we have then...God, that would exceed all my wildest dreams.”

Silence falls over the cab of the truck. She doesn’t dare look over at Matt. She’s too afraid to read the emotions on his face, the reaction in his body language. She pushes her hair out of her face and gulps.

“I mean, that doesn’t sound unrealistic or... _crazy_ , does it?” She asks, biting the inside of her lip.

“No,” Matt says, sounding a little breathless. “Not even a little bit. That sounds...like everything I’ve wanted my entire life.”

Those words immediately pull her eyes up to his. She finds amazement in his stormy blue eyes — disbelief, wonderment, and a million more synonyms. They all boil down to the same thing: _awe_.

“I’ve been trying to find exactly that all my life,” he confesses, shoulders relaxing as he blows out a relieved breath. “No matter how hard I work, I can never _quite_ reach it. I fall short every time.” An overwhelming sadness floods his face. He rips his eyes away from hers and stares down at his hands as they still grip the steering wheel in front of him. “ _Every_. _Time_.”

He could have that. _With her_. All he has to do is choose her. Close the door on Gabby and _choose her_. She wants to say this. To shout it at him and shake him. But she can’t, she _won’t_. Not after the understanding she gained tonight. Different people grieve differently. They move forward at different speeds. Matt needs to process all of this on _his_ timetable. Not hers.

“Someday,” she says, reaching over and placing her hand on top of one of his. “You’ll find it. It’s all a matter of timing. Right now, _ours_ is bad. But—” she stops and shrugs, appearing more careless than she feels. “Timing can always change. Whether that’s with me or...someone else. The good thing is you know _what_ you want. Now you just have to figure out _who_ you want it with.”

He shifts his gaze to their hands and flips his over, so they rest palm to palm. His hand tightens around hers, fingers intertwining. “You’re too patient,” he says softly. “I don’t deserve it.”

“You deserve whatever will make you happy and the room to figure out what and who that is,” she assures him. “That’s what this is about, Matt. It’s not about me. It’s about _you_. Figure yourself out first. I’ll find a way to be okay, no matter what you choose.” She pulls in a quivering breath as her eyes start to mist over. 

She sincerely wants him to be happy. _Truly_ happy. Not stuck in whatever limbo he’s been living in for the last two years. When she says he should be happy regardless of her, _she means it_.

“Well,” she says, pressing her lips together and clearing her throat. “Thank you for the water and the talk and the moment to calm down, but I think I’m good now.” She slips her hand out of his, immediately missing his warmth, and reaches for the handle on the door. “I should get home. I’m emotionally wiped out.”

“You sure you don’t want me to take you?” he asks, concern etched across every inch of his face.

“I’ll be fine,” she promises, smiling fondly at him. “Thank you, Matt.” 

She steps out of the truck but stops before beginning to walk away. She doesn’t feel right about letting the night end this way. Originally, they were supposed to hang out and try to learn more about each other. Their secrets, their pasts, just... _more_. Which she supposes they did but with Antonio getting in the way they weren’t able to really enjoy it. That doesn’t seem fair to either of them.

“Um—would you like to meet me for coffee in the morning?” she asks, looking up at him over the passenger seat. “Maybe try this whole thing again _without_ the interruption?”

A slow smile spreads across his face. It erases the worry lines he’s been wearing for most of the night. He looks years younger every time he smiles — as if for just a moment the weight of the world isn’t sitting on his shoulders. She wishes he could look like that more often.

“I’d love that,” Matt replies eagerly. “Text me the location. I can probably meet you around ten, if that’s okay?”

She nods and reflects his smile back at him. “Sounds great. Thanks for tonight, even if it didn’t turn out like we planned.”

He shrugs modestly and sends her an authentically grateful glance. “Happy to get a moment with you any time I can. Even an imperfect one.”

She closes the truck door and resists the urge to climb back in and kiss him senseless. How is she supposed to protect her heart from him when he keeps saying things _like that_?


End file.
